


Empty Time

by fushigihatch



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Neon Genesis Evangelion -ANIMA- Three Years After
Genre: ANIMA spoilers, If you haven't read any of ANIMA yet you'll probably be a little confused, Kaworu is basically Shinji's guardian angel and speaks to him through his mind, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Past Character Death, Technically current character death as well, that's all you need to know I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-07 22:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fushigihatch/pseuds/fushigihatch
Summary: Three years on and the infatuation still hasn't died.Some nights, Shinji stares into where Kaworu's eyes are meant to be, the guardian angel almost visible through the heavy air. Other nights he closes his own and sees the other boy clearly, caught by all the same trappings of time as any of the living are.





	Empty Time

Sometimes, the nights were like this: Shinji lay on his bed preoccupied with thoughts of battle and apocalypse, too distracted to pay mind to Kaworu. The faint glow that encompassed the deceased boy's body was more like a shadow in the corner of an eye than anything concrete and physical. He had been rendered a faded memory, one Shinji was not prepared to let go of but faded regardless, as all memories become. Every now and again, Kaworu, sat vaguely on the edge of the bed, would toss out some observation he had. Maybe it would be something along the lines of, _'human beings spend their lives obsessing over things in their past, and form barriers to prevent themselves from repeating mistakes out of their control,'_ and maybe Shinji would ask absentmindedly if it was about him, or maybe he wouldn't say anything at all. It was always about him.

Other times, they were like this: Through bloodshot eyes, Shinji would stare hazily at Kaworu's dizzy figure, trying to make out his human shape among all the nothingness. The glow would likely have blocked out anything physical anyway, but sometimes Shinji swore he caught a glimpse of red rings within all the white, temporary, almost-wings floating on the outskirts of whatever he was meant to be.  
_'Your new haircut looks nice on you,'_ Kaworu might offer, his voice as sweet and clear as it ever was, even if the words were never truly spoken aloud. In a sense, Shinji could revel in that - these were private conversations, Kaworu's words belonged to him and no eavesdropper could ever be graced by them like he was.

Excited fingers sometimes danced around Kaworu's glow, transfixed by the colour, wanting more. There was nothing to feel there but a cold longing, emotions long dead revived in a corpse so poorly reanimated it didn't even resemble a human being. Shinji never dared touch him. He feared the truth would be too much to bare.  
Still, the company was nice. After becoming one with all life on Earth it can be quite difficult to just be yourself again. Having a very dedicated piece of another person around you may be of some comfort.

Now, it's like this: the covers of Shinji's bed are warm and they're only warmer now that Kaworu is perhaps lying on top of them, the glow now horizontal like Shinji himself. If he really focuses there's an outline of the older boy Kaworu rightfully should have grown into slightly present, the warmth from his actual form finding it's way into the smile that hasn't left his face, even now that he has none. Closing his eyes makes the image even kinder: although they can't touch, Kaworu is connected to him. The projected sight of him is stained there somewhere on the back of Shinji's eyelids.  
A soft purr comes from Kaworu's lips. 'You look as beautiful as always,' he begins, the voice filling Shinji's mind and trickling down his throat into his heart, 'can you do it for me, again, tonight?'  
_'It,'_ refers to an act of self-love, one that feels far more mutual than personal with Kaworu accompanying him. _'It,'_ is routine, insofar as it falls in line with Shinji's libido. The two of them practically share one now.  
Eyes still clamped shut, he dips a palm below his waistband, pulling out his length and gently stroking it. Softly, he exhales out of his nose. He is fixated as Kaworu licks along his upper lip, lidded red eyes similarly locked upon Shinji's arousal, the impossible boy seeing through the cotton of the sheets.  
Shinji rolls onto his back and continues to pleasure himself, the slight bump of vein in the skin making contact with his palm in happy, momentary bursts.  
'Why don't you touch yourself, too?' he breathes, and Kaworu's demeanour shifts slightly.  
'...I simply hadn't considered it. Watching you is enough.'  
Too lost in the heat to argue, Shinji hums - a third in acknowledgement, mostly in pleasure - as he starts to pump his hand faster up and down the length. Ever attentive, Kaworu remains fascinated by it, and somewhat subconsciously, his own hand finds the space between his supposed belt and imaginary waistline and slips under the gap.

The free arm finds its way over Shinji's closed eyes, his head nestled in the crease of his elbow. Kaworu brushes the fingers with his own idea of them. Heat sparks at the touch, and Shinji pulls back on reflex before conjoining again. This is not usually how it is.  
It's almost as if Kaworu had never died; the angel damned to a life beyond the living may not have been resurrected in Instrumentality the way everything else could be, but he was still there, even if the connection he and Shinji shared was all that kept him alive. And they were both so very alive now - the electric pleasure setting alight in waves through the nervous system, ebbing on the sea of euphoria. Perhaps God had spared some mercy in Her ironic restriction of the Angel of Free Will; if they were to truly become one in the most animalistic sense right now it was doubtful they could ever bare to seperate.  
The rhythmic pumping combined with the hazy feeling of Kaworu's presence draws out that sticky, sweet feeling from low in Shinji's body. It pools around in his hips and drips out slowly, building up to something far greater. In the darkness behind his eyes, Kaworu has his back arched, hair strewn across the pillow. His free hand has moved away from Shinji's own, now finding itself clasped across his mouth.  
Consumed by his mind's eye, the pool becomes a tsunami and the ecstacy explodes in a near-violent, all-consuming rage.  
He hears Kaworu follow in turn, and then, it happens: A billion years of thought stretching far beyond human consciousness fills Shinji's mind, ripping and tearing and folding over itself to fit inside of his perception. In that moment, he knows so much and so little. There is vast existence beyond his own - so much that has been born in spectacular, thunderous applause, prospered, and died before he ever lived; so much that will die without ever being known. Even he has died many times and will die many more.  
The infinite burden leaves as quickly as it came, and Ikari Shinji is himself again. Outside, his Super Eva had jolted from her slumber momentarily, a mechanical screeching cursing the summer air.  
'I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen again,' Kaworu apologises. Shinji opens his eyes to see little again, the angel now having returned to the flurry of thoughts and feelings that was normal for this version of him.  
'It's fine.'  
Liquid is wiped off and abandoned on Shinji's pajama bottoms. He doesn't care if it stains.  
'I mean, yeah, it's not how that's usually meant to go for me but, like, it's not a bad experience or anything. Honestly, it's kind of romantic, right?' Laughing weakly, he adds: 'I feel a little crazy, y'know - doing this with you, considering, um, the whole, situation. So I guess it's reassuring...knowing you're really there after all these years.'  
The afterglow grows stale in the starlight creeping in through the window.  
'I understand, Shinji-kun,' Kaworu begins, words coming out somewhat hesitant. It strikes Shinji as uncharacteristic. He wonders if this subject is touchy for a moment of object naïvity; _of course it is_, Kaworu is dead and he's speaking to his ghost.  
'While I am saddened that we aren't quite connected enough for you to know I'm there all the time, I'm glad that the feeling can be mutual.'  
Shinji's teeth find his lower lip. He gnaws on it.  
'Y-yeah, that's right. Um,' he glances to the electronic clock on the night stand. 1:16 AM. 'It's getting late, so....'  
Exhaling the ashes of the dead conversation, Kaworu recognises how awkward it is and concedes: 'Yes, please sleep. You've been looking exhausted lately.'

Shinji relaxes his muscles and rolls over into a more comfortable position, away from where he presumes Kaworu to be floating.  
After a few minutes, a faint and familiar warmth seems to coat him as he drifts into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I skimmed through some parts of ANIMA in Japanese a year or two ago. I'm excited that it has been released in English, and I guess I wrote this to celebrate. It might be a little short but shit happens.


End file.
